Under the Oak Tree

Chapter 203
  • Prev Chapter
  • Background
    Font family
    Font size
    Line hieght
    Full frame
    No line breaks
  • Next Chapter

Chapter 203: Side Story Chapter

The wyvern’s aggressive flapping sent the mercenaries flying off the rock face like autumn leaves. Riftan pressed himself behind a protruding boulder and stifled a curse. They had now lost two of the magical devices.

Clutching the remaining device in his hand, he assessed the situation. Each time the wyvern thrashed its massive body, the nets looked dangerously close to snapping. The rock face shook as though it were about to collapse.

Riftan waited for the quake to somewhat subside before climbing further down and lodging the device into the wall. The monster’s mana appeared to trigger it, and it promptly shot out dozens of white chains that wrapped around the wyvern.

The creature gave another furious flap of its wings, and the chains fell away. Cursing, Riftan drew his dagger.

Just as the wyvern was about to fly out of the ravine, a deafening blast sounded in the distance. A cannonball came hurtling at the beast and sent it crashing into the rock face. Debris tumbled after it.

“Goddammit!”

Riftan moved quickly, but the violent quake made dodging the falling rocks difficult. He briefly considered jumping off and letting the mage catch him but promptly ruled out that idea. There was no guarantee that the frail mage was clear-headed in this disaster of a situation.

He’s probably fleeing as fast as his skinny legs can take him.

Riftan had long since learned that the only things he could rely on were his two hands. While the wyvern appeared dazed, he seized the opportunity to start scaling up the rock face.

It took him a good while to reach the top. He leaped onto the stone surface and assessed the scene below. Under the viscount’s command, seven catapults relentlessly hurled cannons while a giant crossbow fired log-sized spears. The soldiers’ morale seemed high.

After helplessly withstanding the bombardment, the wyvern retreated back into the ravine. It was not a good sign.

Peering into the dark chasm, Riftan could make out the shadowed form of the wyvern crouched and readying to pounce. As soon as the soldiers’ attack eased, the monster sprang out of the opening like an arrow. The remaining chains snapped, and the wyvern spread its wings and shot into the sky.

It would have been over had the creature flown away, but they were not so lucky. Upon reaching the clouds, the wyvern spiraled back and dived at a frightening speed toward the soldiers.

Arrows bounced harmlessly off the monster’s tough skin. One flap of its great wings sent a gust that splintered two catapults in the blink of an eye. The wyvern launched into the air again. There was no telling where it would strike next, and the soldiers dispersed in a panic.

Riftan let out an exasperated laugh. How was he supposed to work with such a disorganized mob? The mages were nothing but quacks, and the so-called “private” soldiers-for-hire were a bunch of useless men. On top of that, he had already gone over and above what he was being compensated for.

I’m being miserably underpaid for this.

He stroked his chin with a gloved hand. As he was contemplating his next move, he spotted another wyvern slinking out of the ravine.

Riftan sighed. Looks like things just got worse.

A huge blaze shot up from below, and Riftan squinted down.

Is that feeble mage still down there?

No matter how much he searched, there was no sign of the gray-haired mage. Was the skinny fellow casting spells while staying out of sight? Clearly, he was not as boneheaded as Riftan had thought.

Golden flames and a flurry of air began to swirl around the wyvern. Riftan found himself assessing the mage’s offensive in an attempt to gauge his skills. It appeared the inferno was still not powerful enough to penetrate the wyvern’s magic-resistant skin. The monster roared and stretched its wings, dispersing the flames.

Riftan made a snap decision. Though the young mage looked inexperienced, he at least seemed to know how to cast spells properly. It was worth a try.

The monster was currently searching for the mage. After making sure the coast was clear, Riftan picked up a large rock and hurled it down. The monster looked up, just as he had predicted, at which point he aimed another rock at it.

The second projectile struck the creature straight in one of its yellow eyes. It roared in fury and flew toward him. When it was inches away, Riftan threw his heavy steel hook, piercing its other eye.

A high-pitched cry echoed through the ravine, and the wyvern came crashing down. Riftan immediately launched himself onto the creature. It thrashed and flapped its wings to try and buck him off.

Using his hook and chain, Riftan began to nimbly climb up the creature’s back. He settled between its wings and drew his dagger. It was now thrashing even more violently, as if it could sense its life was in danger. Riftan plunged the blade into the wyvern’s thick skin. It felt more like stabbing a wooden log than a living creature.

He stomped on the hilt, driving the weapon deep enough to cause pain. The monster let out a howl and shot into the sky. Clinging on with one hand, Riftan unsheathed his other dagger. He plunged it into the monster’s wing joint with all his might, piercing through its tough skin in a single stroke.

Pushing the second blade to the hilt, he ruthlessly sliced through the monster’s flight muscle. The wyvern immediately veered sideways, frantically flapping its uninjured wing. Riftan stabbed that joint too.

There was no need to break any bones; merely severing the key muscles was enough to send the monster hurtling down. He lodged the hook securely into the wyvern’s torso and braced himself for the impact.

Did I sever the muscles too soon?

The monster appeared to be falling faster than he had anticipated. He crawled to the fattiest part of the creature and pressed himself flush against it in order to soften the impending crash. The ground came rushing up to meet them when, inches from the ground, the monster’s huge body jerked to a stop.

Riftan looked down. Not far from him, he eyed the mage muttering under his breath, looking panicked out of his wits.

So he wasn’t talking out of his ass when he said he could levitate a thousand rants.

Not wasting a moment, Riftan leaped to his feet. The fall had meant to crush the wyvern’s legs, but the mage’s meddling had spoiled that plan. Things would get troublesome if he did not kill the monster while it was immobile.

Riftan darted up the wyvern’s dark, rippled spine and drew his bastard sword. The bluish blade glinted in the sunlight. In a single blow, he plunged the sword into the wyvern’s thick skull. It threw its head back and began to writhe.

He yanked the sword all the way down the monster’s spine. The wyvern’s jaws opened to let out an agonizing cry before it slumped to the ground. Riftan kept the blade in until all movement had ceased. When he finally yanked out his sword, a fountain of blood spurted all over his new clothes.

I’m going to make sure they reimburse me for this.

After retrieving his daggers, he hopped down from the dead wyvern. The mage flinched and shrank back as though Riftan was the monster.

Ignoring the mage’s terrified eyes, Riftan looked over his shoulder and motioned with his head. “Pull yourself together. There are more in there.”

As if finally regaining control of his senses, the mage jerked his head toward the ravine. The rest of the nest was now awake and prowling toward the opening. There was also the matter of the wyvern still wreaking havoc from the air.

Gripping his chains with both hands, Riftan tried to devise a plan. The opening of the ravine was narrow, only allowing a single wyvern to pass at a time. Killing them one by one as they came out looked to be their best option.

The raid party would have no chance of succeeding if all these wyverns managed to get out and attack from the air. Down below, the viscount’s men appeared to be a disorganized throng. The mercenaries, by comparison, seemed to be handling the situation quite deftly.

Riftan turned to the mage. “Let the others deal with the loose wyvern. I need you to cover me. I’ll do the killing, you do the moving. And I’d appreciate it if you could catch me as you did earlier.”

The mage gaped. “What? You’re going to take on the rest on your own? That’s insanity. We have to evacuate-”

“Stop talking and follow me. These bastards can get pretty tenacious once they’re angry. If we retreat, they’ll vent their anger on the nearest village.”

Riftan dragged the mage along as if he were a stubborn mule, cutting off any chance of a counter-argument. As they neared the ravine, Riftan pushed the mage aside and scaled up the rock face. He swung his sword down on the wyvern that had just stuck its head out of the opening, severing its spine.

This was not a battle; it was a hunt.

Riftan barked at the mage peering out from behind a boulder. “What’re you waiting for? Get rid of the carcass now!”

Pale and trembling with terror, the mage levitated the monster out and away from the ravine. Riftan immediately sprinted forward and drove his hook into the leg of the next wyvern. The monster began stomping to try and free itself. As nimble as a mountain goat, Riftan sprang up the wall and leaped onto the creature’s back. They were still trapped in the narrow ravine, preventing the monster from spreading its wings. Riftan seized his chance to slit its artery.

The hunt continued, and Riftan slew wyvern after wyvern. The mage cleared each carcass as Riftan moved on to the next.

He did not let any escape. When one of the wyverns attempted to fly out, he scaled up the wall, looped his chain over it, and slashed off its wing. Eventually, eight bloody wyvern carcasses lay on the ground. Riftan carefully scanned the shadows to make sure no others were hiding.

Guess I got lucky.

...

Eight was a relatively small nest. He had anticipated up to twenty of the creatures. These ones must have separated from their original pack to breed.

There was also the possibility of wyvern eggs tucked into the rock face. Riftan peered up, suspicious. Admittedly, he had no obligation to scour the ravine to dispose of them.

His sword was covered in congealed blood, and he wiped it on his soiled clothes before placing it back in its scabbard. He began trudging toward the opening and spotted the mage’s head sticking into the ravine. The mage let out an odd shriek and hastily retreated.

Ignoring him, Riftan assessed the situation. It appeared that the others had managed to deal with the remaining wyvern, heavy casualties notwithstanding. Nearly half their number were sprawled on the ground. The majority of those incapacitated were dead.

Looking at the mage, Riftan motioned with his head at the fallen men. “Shouldn’t you be healing them?”

The mage hesitated for a moment before scampering in their direction. Riftan leaned against a rock and heaved an exhausted sigh.

***

Much to Riftan’s disappointment, their client was still alive. The swine refused to pay more than the original price of twelve derham per wyvern despite the extra work. Riftan had not thought the viscount would go so far in exploiting him for scraps.

“Then I’m terminating our contract,” Riftan growled, touching the hilt of his sword. “I’ll pay you the one denar as well as the seven derham termination fee, but I’m claiming the eight wyverns I killed on my own. Your magical devices and catapults proved useless.”

The viscount’s face flushed purple at Riftan’s threat. “You think you can terminate our contract as you please?”

“I think you’re misunderstanding something. I am not one of your servants. My services to you are only provisional. I can terminate the contract if I deem any of your demands to be unjust.”

...

Enraged by his insolence, the viscount’s knights drew their swords. Riftan swept a cold gaze over them. The middle-aged mage appeared ill and was leaning against the wagon. He had clearly overextended himself and drained his mana. Next to him were no more than twenty soldiers and eleven knights.

Riftan flicked a glance at the mercenaries watching them. He doubted any of those men would get involved unless the viscount offered them more money. They might even side with Riftan if he promised to pay them.

A smile twisted his lips. It would not need to come to that. He could deal with thirty-five men on his own.

As Riftan surveyed the area and the knights’ formation to plan the best course of action, the viscount abruptly raised his hand.

“Very well. I accept your terms. I’ve already lost too many of my men, and I’d rather not lose any more by pitting them against the monster that slew eight wyverns.”

The viscount paused. Then, in a pretense of magnanimity, he added, “I’ll pay you forty denar. That’s five denar for each wyvern.”

“I want eight denar each.”

“Don’t be greedy. You won’t be able to harvest all those by yourself anyway.”

Riftan let out an incredulous laugh. The swine had the nerve to call him greedy.

“And why would I do that? The magic stones alone would fetch me over sixty. More, if I skinned them for the leather. Terminating the contract is in my favor, but I’m only bargaining with you to avoid the hassle of a fight.”

The viscount’s face flushed, clearly offended by Riftan’s misgivings about his nobleman’s honor. “Very well. I’ll give you sixty denar for all eight. That is my final offer.”

The knight standing behind them promptly stepped forward at the viscount’s signal and handed Riftan a hefty pouch. Riftan did a quick count of the gold coins – exactly sixty in total.

He plucked one out to make sure it was real gold, then nodded to the knight.

“Good. They are all yours.”

Their business concluded, Riftan spun away. The young mage sat a short distance away, looking utterly dejected. From what Riftan had heard, the mages would receive nothing, as both the sleeping spell and the magical devices had failed. Riftan lightly clicked his tongue and counted out fifteen gold coins.

“Here. This is your share.”

The mage stared dumbly at the coins before raising his head.

Riftan added flatly, “As a rule, the assisting mage usually gets a third. Take it.”

The mage merely gawked in response, and Riftan wondered if the lad was soft in the head. When a few more seconds passed with still no signs of comprehension from the mage, Riftan dropped the coins in his lap and whirled away.

This content is taken from fr(e)ewebn(o)vel.𝓬𝓸𝓶

Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter